


Obsession?

by guest03



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Clarke Griffin/Lexa, F/F, Flashbacks, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-09 03:31:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10402881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guest03/pseuds/guest03
Summary: An encounter at the bar brings up some memories and leads to much, much more.(Tentative title, summary, and pretty much everything lol)





	1. This isn't the introduction, it's the body.

### Lexa POV

The glass of beer you’re currently drinking cost you $5.50 and that’s the only reason you didn’t leave when the others did. Because while it tasted like absolute piss, you hate wasting booze, you hate sculling, and you also don’t mind drinking by yourself (…In a completely non-alcoholic way). You discover your second reason for staying shortly after you’re halfway through the tiny not-at-all-worth-it glass; her.

Her hair is a tussled blonde mess and she’s excitedly dancing (awkwardly bopping) around a pool cue for some reason. You’re staring like the world’s biggest creep but you can’t help it and you hope she notices and is somehow unbelievably flattered by both your attention and hopefully ridiculously alluring smouldering eyes. You can’t help it, she’s wearing some dungarees (which was a recent trend that you found weird because it reminded you of the late 90’s and the weird OshKosh overalls that your mother forced you to wear, and you were of the opinion that only models could really pull it off. Also, who decided to call them dungarees??) over just a bra and you can see basically every elegant curve that she possesses and it is mesmerising.

It’s been three years. Three years since you’ve seen or talked to her. She had transferred into your high school in your penultimate year and that had started a two-year affair that you really kind of wished hadn’t happened because you literally have nothing to show for it. You remember your first interaction with her, during which you very transparently lied and she humoured you and it was glorious.

* * *

 

 

> “You… You’re pretty good.” You resist your urge to face palm because she actually was kind of only on par with most of everyone (meaning she sucked) and she gives you a fleeting wtf look before it slowly turns into a smile.  
>  “…You’re not that bad yourself.” Internally (and probably externally too since apparently you cannot hide your feelings for shit) you preen up because you know you have actually been kicking ass and you’re pumped up and having a gorgeous creature compliment you is never a bad thing.  
>  “Thanks.”

* * *

 

The next two years were full of little moments like that, tiny insignificant moments that you put way too much significance on.

* * *

 

 

> You quickly become borderline obsessed.
> 
> You don’t even know how you found out all these things (probably a mix of random classroom discussions, through mutual friends, and her actually revealing facts about herself in the most adorable of manners) but you know that she wants to become a doctor (just like her mum), her dad is an engineer, they live in some rich-ass suburb because of course they do, and her whole family is ridiculously nice and kind and smart and perfect. It somehow makes you feel completely inadequate even though you’re completely secure and proud of your own life and achievements. Regardless she has an irritating boyfriend with stupid floppy brown hair who is also somehow perfect (because of course he is).
> 
> So you watch from a distance and pine and do your absolute fucking best to get the fuck over her because it’s never going to happen.
> 
> Which, admittedly, you do a really shitty job of but in your defence getting over her is ridiculously hard to do because when you randomly feel the need to draw at 2AM, somehow you’re left with A3 charcoal works that abstractly allude to her. When you walk by a nearly empty classroom during morning tea and she’s in there with her eyebrows drawn together and a cute little frown on her face trying to do work while a mug of tea is rapidly cooling down on the corner of the desk, your muse is struck again. You write a short story (ramblings, really) about your fantasies, of the two of you together in the future, you imagine that she’s studying from her ridiculously expensive Med textbooks which you gladly contributed an arm and a leg as payment for because that’s her dream. And in your mind, her dreams are your dreams.

* * *

 

It is actually ridiculous; never before have you been so artistic, arts and writing and expression have their place but predominantly you have always been about thinking with your head, and not your heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yoooooo please leave some feedback.
> 
> Okay tbh I don't know what I'm doing. First fic that I'm posting ever. My talents definitely lay more on the editing side of things (not my own work though, evidently lol) so writing something was a bit of a struggle. Personally, I generally dislike monologue-ey style fics so idk why that's my go-to writing style. If I do continue this fic (depends on interest and my laziness/busy-ness tbh), probably going to change it up. No idea where I'm going with this fic yet but if I do continue, definitely going to have to flesh out my approach to Clexa and the 100-verse parallels properly.
> 
> Anyway, once again, please leave some feedback or ideas or anything really! If there are some things you didn't understand, don't hesitate to say so! I realise I am Australian as fuck (especially in my writing) so I might go back and change it so the rest of the world can understand, funnily enough I did try to tone it down but I'm pretty sure I'm still missing heaps.


	2. It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss

###  Lexa POV 

You’re on your last half of your beer glass and quite content to sit there people-watching despite having an early start tomorrow. It would really be quite beneficial for you to head home early however that is a problem for future-you to deal with (past/present-you is a pretty big douchebag, it’s been confirmed a ridiculous number of times). You’ve got a really light, happy buzz happening so all things negative with the world has disappeared and you’ve become focused on only one thing – one person – and really, who could blame you?

The music playing has faded into calming background noise, the clacking of pool balls hitting each other adding some nice staccato notes on top, and the conversations around you have become white noise. Your eyes track her progress around the pool table, she’s doing a little saunter-skip (how is that weird combination even possible?) around to line up for her shot. She bends over and rests the cue over her elegant fingers, doing a few practice strokes before she goes for her shot. The white ball clacks against the red ball which proceeds to head towards the pocket. It stops right in front of the pocket to the sound of cheers and groans all around the table. Her face drops into a cute little pout for the smallest fraction of a second before it quickly changes into a smirk.

“Perfect set-up.” Said with the utmost forced arrogance possible. Her brunette team mate is quick to agree with a sage nod.

Her opponents give her incredulous looks because everyone knows it was 100% a fluke but ultimately decide to not dignify her with a response and just give her a quick eye roll and exasperated smiles.

The game continues while you watch on, smiling into the glass occasionally at their antics. Eventually a brunette head looks up suddenly and sharp, brown eyes catch yours. You fight the urge to look away guiltily and meet her stare with a small smile. Satisfied that you’ve proven yourself to be either an innocent, confident bystander or an obsessed, shameless psychopath you eventually break the eye contact and move your gaze back to your glass. You then proceed to down the last few gulps before getting up.

You decide that your next move will be worked out after you go to the bathroom. Pushing through to the other side of the bar, you follow the signs to the bathrooms. The signs lead you through a room filled with pokies machines, hypnotised faces pressing buttons automatically. Your eyes glance around in confusion until you see another girl with an equally determined searching look in her eyes, you make eye contact and give each other a little smile at your newfound kinship – the search for the bathroom is an age-old quest that has brought many people together since the beginning of time.

You’ve both found the bathroom, separated and done your business, and made eye contact via the mirrors over the sinks while washing your hands. Awkward smiles are shared all around. You both leave the bathroom and she heads for the bar. That 2 minutes of “social“ Interaction was obviously very draining for you so you decide to head outside for a bit of fresh air.

That fresh air you found was just outside the bar to the side with security giving you some searching looks as you nestle in among the smokers without pulling out a cigarette. You’re not a smoker, but you don’t mind being surrounded by smokers much. Your head is tilted back against the wall and you’re resting your eyes for a bit until you feel someone settle in beside you. You turn your head only to see smiling eyes and their arm raises to tousle through her blonde mop of hair.

“Do you mind if I stay here for a bit?”

“No, not at all.” You husk back at her and you relax back into your previous position against the wall.

A comfortable silence ensues with you occasionally opening your eyes a bit to sneak some peeks at her, your eyes tracing the curves of her body that are very visible thanks to her overalls. The line from the bottom of her bra leading down to her hipbones was a very mesmerising one.

Eventually you feel a hand softly rest on your shoulder, giving it a bit of a hesitant squeeze. You turn to see her looking at you with a cigarette in her mouth, eyebrow raised.

“You got a light?” It’s somewhat muffled due to the cigarette in her mouth but your deduction skills have always been rather impressive.

“Yeah I think so, give me a sec.” You dig around your pockets and eventually find the lighter you carry around sometimes. You may not smoke, but a lot of your friends do and a lot of them forget/lose their lighters; good Samaritan that you are, you decide to support their bad habits. It also happens to be a decent conversation starting point with strangers, case in point.

Your fingers flick the lighter and the miracle of fire pops up. You raise your eyes to meet hers and she leans in to light up her cigarette. You steadfastly hold the lighter while you unabashedly stare at the shadows that highlight her face brought about from the flame. She inhales with her lips wrapped around the cigarette, her eyes shut. She pulls back, her eyes open momentarily to meet yours before she breaks eye contact, closing her eyes again before tilting her head up and exhaling a plume of smoke into the air. Her eyes pop open again as she meets your eyes.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

There’s silence again as you leave her to enjoy her cigarette. You’re leaning against the wall again, staring at the cars driving by, thinking about nothing in particular when you receive a bit of a bump to your hip. You turn to her and raise your eyebrow. She’s holding her cigarette out to you and has met your raised eyebrow with her own. You consider telling her that you’re not really a smoker but ultimately decide you’re not bothered to explain and you’re not exactly up for the conversation that usually happens after your explanation on why you carry around a lighter but don’t smoke. So you lean in towards her hand and take a drag.

Your eyes had focused upon her elegant fingers to ensure you didn’t make a fool of yourself by missing the cigarette but had moved to focus on her face partway through your inhale. She meets your steady gaze with a barely there smile. You lean back and exhale before you return her smile.

You both share the cigarette in companionable silence until all that’s left is the brown filter. She reaches around your shoulder and pushes the end of the cigarette into the ashtray behind you to ensure that it’s out before dropping it. She settles in beside you again but significantly closer to you this time.

“So…what brings you to my neck of the woods this fine night?”

“The daily grind.” You reply with a bit of a cheeky smile and a wink, wondering how she’s going to take your double entendre; you’re now either a depressed office drone out to drink your sorrows on Monday night or you’re just looking for a hook up. To be honest, you’re fine with either impression. Her eyebrow raises up before she barks a laugh, eyes twinkling at you. Her hand touches your arm and there’s a gentle squeeze.

Your heads tilt towards each other and you both stare at the other, challenging the other to make the first move with your eyes. Your eyes eventually follow down the line of her nose to her lips which are upturned as if she knows she will win. Your eyes turn defiant, your spirit rebels. You lift your hand to her cheek and lean in a bit before you stop an inch away from her lips. Her eyes flutter open when she doesn’t feel what she expects. You give her a smirk and her expression flickers through a myriad of emotions. Initially there’s a glare at not having her expectations met, it quickly turns into a smirk when she realises your plan, and then finally there’s a fond exasperation to her eye roll before she moves her hand to the back of your neck and pulls you in.

Your lips meet. It’s a bit odd at first mainly because you were both smirking for whatever reason but your mouths eventually morph and you develop a rhythm. Your lips move against hers in a dance that the two of you are quickly perfecting. You move your body closer to hers and she ends up pressed against the wall. She gives a bit of a start at the soft impact before melting back into the kiss, her hands tangled in your brunette locks. You hands squeeze her hips a bit when she pulls on your hair a bit too painfully. She seems to take the hint and it now becomes a bit more like a scalp massage. You give an appreciative hum before deciding to give her a bit of air by moving away from her lips to kiss a line down her chin and neck, lingering there for a while before giving her rapidly beating pulse point a kiss. Her hands guide your face back up to her lips and who are you to deny her?

The kiss continues for a while before it tapers off. You’re leaning your foreheads against each other occasionally dipping in for a quick kiss. You stand there slowly catching your breath, which admittedly is hard to do since you’re probably surrounded by smokers and fumes from the cars that drive by. It’s an urban romantic atmosphere, the smoke creates a shroud over you both somewhat literally.

You both stand there, content to stare into the others’ eyes. The silence is a rather calm one only punctuated by the sounds of the city noise around you. Your silence is broken eventually when she smiles, moves her hand towards her now extra-tousled hair in what you now recognise as a bit of a nervous gesture and her lips move.

“Hey, I’m Niylah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOL who saw that one coming? Don't kill me, dw y'all like the title says 'it was only a kiss'. The shit you want WILL happen...eventually.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed it. Sorry for the wait, uni was kicking my ass (it still is tbh, I'm just procrastinating).
> 
> Please give me feedback. I still don't know wtf I'm doing so validation or constructive criticism is 10000% welcome. Also I've pretty much used up literally the only concrete story plotline/twist I had planned (planning/10) soooo maybe you can change my trajectory for this story to your liking ;)


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